Eventual
by Eternal Contradiction
Summary: Vivian Vande Velde's Companions of the Night The first time, she came home from a night class to find him sitting on her couch. KerryMichel Oneshot


**_Eventual_**

The first time, she came home from a night class to find him sitting on her couch. His blue t-shirt was damp around the shoulders from the light drizzle in the cool night, and his hair was curling slightly around his ears, black and lush, with a few drops of water clinging to the dark strands. She looked at him without a word, taking in his bare feet with toes curled into the velvet cushion of her couch, and that infuriatingly smug grin playing at the corner of his mouth. Removing her rain jacket, she turned her back on him to hang it in the coat-closet, and then continued to ignore him by wandering into the kitchen.

The fridge door opened and closed, but she didn't see the contents inside. Again, she pulled the fridge open and grabbed a bottle of water as proof that she had a reason to enter the kitchen which had nothing to do with how much he had unnerved her. She tried to ease the beating of her heart, but once she walked back into the livingroom – with the purpose, she told herself, to find out what he wanted and to uncharitably kick him back out of her life after five years – she could barely breathe at the sight of him. Her memories didn't do him justice, though she had long-since been convinced that she was amplifying his beauty in them. His smug smirk became a cocky grin as he watched her, and he looked to be on the verge of saying something sarcastic, something slightly mean and down-putting, something oh so Michel. Still moving towards him, still with purpose, she grabbed the soft material of his worn shirt. She wasn't sure if she was intent on kissing him or killing him as she leaned closer, but he made the decision for her. She barely even saw him move before her body was reacting to the push.

"Good little girls don't tease vampires," he told her, hand around her neck as he held her down on the couch. His body pushed her back into the cushions, as his soft, infrequent breath slivered across her dewy skin, and she shivered. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was panting as though he already had tightened his grip around her throat. Instead, he caressed the flawless skin with his thumb, and her heart pounded beneath the digit.

"Good vampires," she antagonized him, "don't revisit the scene of the crime."

"Oh, but Kerry," he breathed against her mouth, kissing her hard and quick so there would be no doubt what he was taking about, "there are places here I've never been."

She laughed, arching against him as his hand moved from her neck and into what was, indeed, unchartered territory for them.

On the second time, she traced him to a small apartment in a seedy part of town. At first, the danger she put herself through for visiting a neighborhood like this just after dark was worth the shock on his face when he opened the door to find her there. He grabbed her wrist, slamming first the door and then her against it. She was shocked when his fingers dug into her hips, hastily ripping open her jeans and fingering her beneath the layers of cotton. She gasped against his cruel mouth, and he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit violently, pushing down her pants. The taste of copper pervaded the kiss, mixing with saliva, and he greedily sucked it down.

Seconds later, it became obvious that everything was worth it for the way he frantically rubbed her clit, lips wetly licking the pulse of her neck. Her breath quickened, and she moaned as his teeth ripped into her throat and his cock slammed into her. It was the quickest sex she'd ever have in her life that still managed to be fulfilling on both sides. For every taste of blood he pulled from her neck he gave back to her through the wonderful friction of his thrusts deep in her body, until it felt like a mobius strip of lust, hormones, and pleasure. She came wildly, her blood gushing into his mouth as he followed her a fraction of a second later into orgasm.

The second time, they didn't exchange words. When it was over he slumped against the wall, sliding down to a sitting position and laughing softly, drunk on her blood and euphoria. A messy smear of crimson clung to the corner of his mouth, and she wanted to lean into him and lick it off. Startled and frightened, thinking that he was turning her despite previous assertions that it wasn't possible, she yanked her jeans back over bruised hips and bolted out the door.

She didn't see him again for two months, three days, and an agonizing number of hours. Constantly, she berated herself for how poorly she had reacted, but every time she stood at the bus-stop to make the trip back, she couldn't bring herself to take the final step. She never knew how he hoped she would, and he would never tell her. They met accidentally, maybe on purpose, in a grocery store of all places, and the moment she set eyes on him a brilliant smile flashed across her lips and lit her face. Seconds later, she realized she was supposed to be horrifyingly embarrassed to see him and turned away. The conversation that followed was some of their best work.

"Shopping?" She asked.

"Yes."

Then their carts moved passed each other, and the relief she felt was quickly overwhelmed by despair.

It was her unmitigated response in those first precious moments that put him back on her couch when she stumbled through the door with an armful of groceries. She glared weakly at him as she uncurled her stiff fingers, the heavy plastic bags causing them to claw as they lost circulation. "If you knew you were going to be here anyway, you could have helped me with the groceries." Her words were bitter, but her heart was light.

He shrugged, smiling again.

"What are you doing here?" She crossed her arms over her chest, taking the hard stance against him.

"Seducing you." He stood, approaching her for once. She noticed that his hair was longer now and as he walked it brushed against his neck. Her heartrate increased, and she stared at him like a small animal cornered by a predator. That night, the ice cream she had bought as comfort food melted over the kitchen floor and her milk turned sour.

The forth, fifth, and sixth times varied in incident, but not in context. She didn't know when he would show up, but she began to be certain that he couldn't stay away. She lost track of the number of times she saw him, and only knew that her happiness rested beneath the moon and stars. She began to give serious thought to death, and it wasn't as unappealing as she assumed. It stopped being about getting in and out, and as he leisurely kissed her in the effulgent moonlight in her bedroom, Kerry's heart beat for something more than attraction and primal fear.

The next time he slipped into bed and softly kissed her, waking her from a dream of blue oceans and Caribbean days. She smiled dreamily at him, thinking for a moment that she was still asleep. He kissed her again, mouth demanding her attention, and his desperation woke her out of the dream. "What is it," she whispered in the dark, her hands shaking as she fisted them into her blanket.

Instead of answering her question, he reached over and turned on her bedside lamp. She blinked against the offensive light, squinting into his familiar features. "I need to see you," he said softly, hand smoothing her hair in a gentle motion.

What is it? She wanted to ask again. What's _wrong_? Instead she allowed him to hold her reverently, his hands skimming over her body and mouth memorizing her flesh. Silent tears left tracks of despair down her cheeks, and suddenly she knew. She _knew._

That evening almost six years ago, she had never expected to see him again when she walked out the door. Sure, she had hoped, but she had little faith in the fantasies becoming reality. Kerry hadn't expected him to come back into her life. She hadn't expected him to smile at her, banter with her, or touch her like he did. She had never expected him to fall in love.

As they moved together beneath the sheets, it was exquisite. She shuddered in his arms, and they kissed with open mouths as she tried to breathe.

"I love you," she whispered. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his body shaking with fine tremors. She knew he wasn't crying, but it didn't alleviate the heaviness of her heart. When he said goodbye, his fingers entangled in hers and his blue eyes were intense on her face for an extended, heart shattering moment. They didn't kiss.

It was the last time.

©RelenaFanel.Aug2.2007


End file.
